


All Is Fair In Love And War

by sentinelai



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Complicated Relationships, Expanded Universe, F/M, Gift Fic, If 3500 words can be considered short, Jealousy, Koku, L drinking champagne, M/M, Marzia Deneuve, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Shared Timeline with Italian Ice, Short One Shot, Stolen Persona, The Detective Wars (Original Content), that's a new one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentinelai/pseuds/sentinelai
Summary: L's previous relationship has begun to hinder the future of his relationship with his fiancé, Light Yagami. A persona that was once fun to play around with has now become the grounds for Light's jealousy. Reflecting on his internal struggle surrounding his intimate, young-love relationship with Deneuve, and seeing the parallels between the only two relationships he's ever had, L realises it's time to let go, while Light, instead, tries to adapt.One-shot. Alternating timeline. Continuation of 'Italian Ice'. Deneuve (Original Characterisation and Persona).





	All Is Fair In Love And War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Koku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koku/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Italian Ice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264298) by [Koku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koku/pseuds/Koku). 



> This is a continuation of Koku's birthday gift fic to me, [Italian Ice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11264298/chapters/25186101). It's based on my timeline of events for 'The Detective Wars', which introduces both Eraldo Coil and Deneuve as standalone characters. This is only my interpretation of the aforementioned war between the three detectives, which includes a young, seventeen year old L becoming intimately involved with a twenty-five year old Deneuve [Long live bisexual L] paralleling the age gap between L and Light. 
> 
> Koku was kind enough to contribute to this idea, and now I'm writing a follow up to his fic. It's a slightly altered version of events from my original idea, but his version of events between L and Deneuve was so enjoyable that I had to continue in that same timeline. Make sure you check out his work before reading mine!
> 
> Just to give the font and timeline swapping some context, standard text is the current scenario playing out between L and Light, and blocks of italic text indicates any paralleled scenes (flashbacks) between L and the real Deneuve, who happens to be very much _dead_ at this point. Except her persona, which lives on in L, and apparently Light too.
> 
> This is another birthday gift to Koku, and now that this is finished I can focus on all my other unfinished works like Separate, TWLMB, Twenty Eight, and Names. I've had lots of distractions from them, but I plan to have them all finished before I start anything new.
> 
> Comments are welcome, and don't forget to leave kudos if you've enjoyed reading!

“You lied to me,” Light’s voice rang somewhere between upset and utter disdain towards him, but he kept it too low for L to determine which one of those feelings was more prominent, “I thought you told me nothing had happened? I read those messages, I saw what she said with my own eyes. Why would she lie? Why are _you_ lying to me?”

“It’s not that simple. I wasn’t choosing to lie to you, it was simply a case of hiding the truth…”

“Yeah, _lying_ ,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. 

L reached out for his hand across the dinner table, but he wasn’t quick enough for Light. He snatched it away, tucking it under the table, glowering at him with burning eyes, from which it was clear that he was more than unhappy. His mouth hung open as though he anticipated more words to come out, but nothing came of it as he continued to glare at him. 

The waitress passing their table was, quite openly, engaged in their argument, wasting little effort trying to hide this. It was only when L made the conscious decision to stare straight back at her that she continued on her way. Her appearance only made his situation more unsettling as Light turned in his seat, to see why his attention seemed to have drifted from him to over his shoulder, only for his eyes to land on a woman with dark, burnished brown hair; strikingly similar to a certain someone.

Light shot up from his chair. The legs scraped the polished tile beneath as it slid backwards, enough to make L cringe. 

“ _Fucking pervert_ …” Light leaned over and hissed at him before he turned away, walking off without making a scene as he abandoned him at the table. L watched him nearly knock that very same waitress over, nudging her with his elbow despite having plenty of room to walk around her, making a beeline for the exit.

He sighed, wondering where their engagement night had gone so wrong. L gazed at the half empty glass of champagne - loosely pinching the stem of the glass between his fingers - along with more than half a bottle to finish sat on the tabletop.

~

_“Let’s go,” she whispered, taking him by the hand and pulling him away from their table. L was forced to bring his glass with him, inadvertently stealing it from the restaurant to avoid letting the alcohol go to waste._

_His knee caught the leg of the table, and to that he heard the clashing of silverware. She was eager to leave the safety of the restaurant, driven by her excitement for vulnerability. Once outside, from what he could still foresee in his intoxicated state, they’d be isolated, while also subjected to any lurking dangers. It wasn’t safe for them to be seen together, or even separately. He knew very well that he should’ve taken Watari’s advice, and paid attention to his warnings, but his ignorance was rooted deeper than simply going outside when told not to. L was ignoring the promise he’d made not to meet this woman, and, to make matters worse, he’d known that he’d be easily convinced to break that promise._

_Before he knew it, he was in the elevator with her. His thoughts were clouded by his drink, but he still had some awareness of an arm sliding around his waist in an attempt to hold him steady, although he continued to sway with his moving surroundings. The glass in his hand tilted as he wavered around and half the contents spilled on the tiled elevator floor. He stared down for a few seconds, out of touch with what was real and what wasn’t._

_She pressed the button to take them to the thirteenth floor, and as the door closed, cutting them off from the noise of the lobby, her attention turned back to him. He could feel her lips brushing against his ear. It was guaranteed that she’d leave traces of her lipstick on him - a deep purple shade that wouldn’t go unnoticed. L made a mental note that he’d need to clean himself up before returning to his suite later, but he brushed that thought off following discomfort in his nether region._

_“I’ll be your first,” she mused. “I can take very good care of you…”_

_Deneuve’s voice was captivating. Despite her bubbly Italian accent, there was something quite impending about those words._

~

Venturing back to the room, where he knew he’d find Light again, he stumbled out of the elevator and came very close to falling, managing to balance himself in the last second before he landed flat-out on the floor. L turned to his right to face the hallway, finding the way it moved unnerving. He’d brave it to get back to his room and apologise to his newly-made fiance. 

One foot in front of the other and he was on his way, if not a little on the unstable side as he tried to hold himself and exert some control over his auto-piloting body. The champagne bottle in his hand was close to empty, but he’d brought it with him, now finding he’d regret his decision as the liquor swilled around inside, overwhelming his drunk mind and making him feel ill. The sound itself was becoming more grotesque by the minute, causing his stomach to clench. He’d been drinking himself senseless for the past two hours; L knew he only had himself to blame.

After spending countless minutes of uncoordinated walking, or at least some form of movement towards the room, momentarily ending up on all fours and straightening up again, he stopped at his room and began fumbling around for his key. He dug his hand deep into his left pocket, and his fingers met the cold metal. As he withdrew his hand, he felt himself tremble, dwelling on what Light would say as he walked in and fearing that he wouldn’t want to be put face-to-face with him again that night, but he knew better. Or at least his drunk mind thought it did. He went ahead and unlocked it, before he dared to peek his head through the mid-opened door. 

“L-Light, I’m…”

He almost dropped his champagne bottle.

~

_The door being slammed behind him put him further on-edge. Looking around, taking in everything about the suite he’d been brought into, the room opened up to a large, lavish seating area. She ignored that, leaving him stood in the doorway as she sauntered over to a nearby workspace. Following shortly after, he leant against the walls, haphazardly making his way to her, and slowly coming up from behind. The desk he found himself looking at was littered with paper - or photographs - a used wine glass and a much taller type of glass he couldn’t identify._

_He had to look twice at the photos, double-taking. His heart leapt from his chest when he realised the photos he’d seen were of him._

_She looked over her shoulder, meeting his apprehension with a smile. “You were a difficult man to pursue, but my attraction to you perseveres.”_

_Her fingers traced over every image, from snapshots of him entering his hotel room to surveillance screenshots - all occasions where he assumed he was alone. It was jarring, but she wasn’t hiding anything. There seemed to be no intent behind it other than simply following him until she could make contact._

_Marzia reached for another bottled substance that sat on her desk: prosecco. He recalled the glass of champagne that he’d kept with him, finding that it was now an empty glass rather than the half-full one he’d started with. Whether it had been spilled or he’d finished it, he wasn’t sure. She began pouring into the unfamiliar shaped glasses, that he now realised were for the prosecco - being unfamiliar with any substance that wasn’t champagne._

_He drew closer to the desk as he placed his empty glass down, which caught her attention mid-pour as she turned to see what he was doing. L took a step away, wary of what her next move might be, with his nerves overtaking his intoxication. She quickly dismissed it, finishing up one of the glasses and moving to pour the next, presumably for him._

_Placing the bottle down carefully, she turned to him and slipped a glass into his hand, forcing him to cusp it as she closed his hand for him around the bowl. He was holding it incorrectly, but he kept his thoughts to himself for once._

_“I can feel your hand shaking.” Concern flashed across her face as she looked at him, drawing his eyes upwards once again, but her features softened after she’d caught him staring at their hands touching around his glass. Her face lit up with a soft upturn of the corners of her painted lips, and her eyes gleamed brighter than the prosecco. “You shouldn’t worry. This will help your nerves.”_

~

“Light---ah... _ah_ …” L found himself trapped between his fiance and the wall, and his arms pinned above his head as Light teased his neck with his tongue. 

He pulled back, standing face-to-face and looking rather sly with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “ _‘Light’?_ ”

“ _Marzia… please, I-I..._ ” 

Light chuckled before he could finish. His lips formed a soft, more pleasant smile, bearing that deep purple shade he’d become so familiar with. “I’ll give you everything you need.”

L groaned abnormally loud, rubbing himself up against his skirt-clad thigh in desperation. There wasn’t much else he could do in his current state, being too drunk to avoid any teasing or advances, and left vulnerable to be played with. Light knew how to frustrate him. He could feel every last smudge of lipstick staining his skin and shirt collar, his hands tightening around his wrists, and a protrusion through his pencil skirt, pressing into his leg. The rest of the world was far gone from his mind, and he paid no attention to the room spinning around them.

There’d been a moment of silence between them before Light leaned in, breaking away from his fixation on him. He shivered as he anticipated the sensation of breath against his skin. 

“Tell me what you want from me,” Light breathed into his ear. “Let me make you happy.”

That was coming from Light, not the persona. He shouldn’t enjoy his fiance pretending to be someone else, yet it thrilled him to no end. He loved Light, admittedly more so than he loved Deneuve, but he couldn’t help what excited him, and wouldn’t think to pass up any offer like this. Bearing his concerns in mind, he knew he had to do demand something enjoyable for them both and not solely to fulfill his own unconventional need.

When he was met with silence, Light pulled away again. He’d made an admirable effort with his makeup, making sure to include everything from the fine-detailed eyeliner, drawn to perfection, to his purple lips. The mascara was now smudged under his eyes, his cheeks had a noticeable shimmer to them, and he’d managed to get hold of a brown wig, much darker and longer than his natural hair. Neither of these were part of his own take on Deneuve, but he found it more than pleasing on Light. He’d clearly put hours into gathering and practicing all these things to make this his own persona to play with.

“Do you still want me?” he asked, his words afflicted with a tone of uncertainty, joined by a reluctance in letting L’s hands slip free from his grasp. 

He more than wanted him. It seemed strange to ask when he could feel how much he want-- no, _needed_ him. The pain of it was insufferable. If he had to go any longer without being taken care of, he’d need to take his own action.

“Why wouldn’t I? You look stunning…” 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Light’s hands slipped back into his, locking their fingers together again. Their heads touched, and L found himself staring directly into Light’s hazel eyes, distracted by different splashes of colour. “Do you want _me_?”

The alcohol was doing it’s work not only on himself, but Light too. He’d slipped out of persona.

“Yes,” he mumbled, still quite tipsy and slurring his words, while choosing to look down at their hands instead of facing him. It was difficult enough focusing on his eyes while drunk, let alone when Light was no longer emotionally restrained.

He leaned into the other man’s shoulder, finding himself with a faceful of long, dark hair, and muffled by it as he spoke. For some reason he felt much better thinking he couldn’t hear him. L knew that anything he spouted out while intoxicated was either nonsensical or unhelpful. “You don’t need to do this if you’re not comfortable. At least… not for me, Light…”

“I… I want to feel like I’m doing enough to please you,” he replied, stammering as his voice began to crack, as he could hear, from his voice alone, that he tried to hold himself together. “I’d do anything for you, y-...you know that, right?”

“Mm... you’re more than enough, Light…” he hiccupped, still doing his best to assure him that things were fine between them. L found himself playing with the synthetic hair that hung from his shoulders, wrapping it around his fingers and carefully twisting strands of it. The way things were going made him nervous. He knew it was selfish to want more, and he tried to suppress any desire of having more from him, knowing himself that his fiance was certainly enough, and that he couldn’t have both Light and Deneuve. It was greed on his part. The attempt he’d made to take up the persona was also proving too much for him.

By this time, Light was quivering, backing down from the act he tried to carry out. The flame that was there moments ago had been smothered by emotional weight, but that wasn’t to say he blamed his counterpart. He knew what he was thinking, sensing it in one way or another.

The brunette closed his eyes tight as he forced tears back, removing himself from L’s clutches. A loss for words was an understatement.

~

_“You’re more meaningful to me, Mr Lawliet,” she cooed, nuzzling into his hair. “They were different. I had no love for them.”_

_L grimaced at her response, certain that she’d told every last one of them the same thing: that their predecessors meant nothing to her. Maybe he also meant nothing to the next teenager she encountered. Unfortunately, this hadn’t deterred him yet. She was too good for him, after all, he was only some naive, immature seventeen year old, but just knowing he’d lose out to someone else made him want to fight to win her over completely._

_This idea that she was capable of loving him in return left him intrigued. The touch of her hand was a comfort to him, making him feel like he was wanted. Her fingertips were gentle over his skin as they traced his jawline. He belonged there, he knew that. She welcomed him with open arms, and, despite any ulterior motive she may have had with him, he at least felt cared for by someone other than Watari._

_Or at least she seemed to care. With his head rested against her shoulder, she caressed him, all while providing interesting conversation and countless cups of tea. Kind gestures like those were far from his mind when they decided to meet up, but it hadn’t gone unappreciated._

_He loved her, that’s all there was to it. Whether she truly loved him back would forever go unknown._

~

It was wrong of his mind to wander in such ways, and the threat of losing his fiance was enough to ground his thoughts. He’d had some time to sober up while Light kept himself locked in the en-suite. All he could do was shift restlessly in bed, waiting for him with what was now, presumably, a cold cup of tea, but he’d at least made the effort to accommodate him when, and if, he decided to come back out. The expansive hotel suite felt far emptier without Light. After having time to think, he knew he needed nothing more than the person who cared as deeply for him in return.

He’d had enough of waiting. L leapt out of bed and walked over the the bathroom door, listening out for any unusual signs before he knocked, pressing his ear to the door in the hopes of getting a hint of what he was doing in there. This was returned with an unsettling silence. He’d focused too much energy on his worrying and not enough time trying to reach out to him. 

After mentally scolding himself, he tapped softly on the smooth woodwork with his finger, perhaps a little too mild in nature. “Light?”

Nothing came of his attempt. It hurt to be ignored in such a way. He tried again, tapping with two fingers this time, but again, followed with another silence. 

“I miss you,” he muttered, thinking aloud. 

That was, however, enough to garner a response from the other side. The sound of carefully treaded footsteps came as a relief. After grabbing his attention, he needed to go an extra length to put an end to his sulking. He wasn’t sure how, exactly, but he’d work something out when he managed to get inside. 

He cleared his throat before calling out to him again. “Can I come in?”

That wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement, because he intended to enter one way or another to check up on him. Leaving someone as emotionally vulnerable as him locked up in a bathroom could prove to be a mistake. It made him anxious to think what he could’ve been up to in the time he’d spent alone in there, and the more he waited, the more he was itching to get in there and find out for himself. 

The lock clicked, and the door opened before he could even consider trying to break through it. That came as another wave of relief, after he realised he’d made it through to him following their earlier dispute. In hindsight, it was unnecessary and he should’ve acted on what he knew was right, rather than what he wanted. He readied himself to apologise as he pushed the ajar door wide open.

It was the second time that evening he’d walked in on the unexpected. Light in red, lacy lingerie couldn’t have been anticipated, even in his wildest imagination. 

He was forced to swallow a lump in his throat. His face began to radiate with an intense heat, and he tugged with his finger at the neck of his shirt, trying to keep his cool, but his gawking threw that possibility out of the window. Knowing where to look seemed impossible; he was torn between staring at the bulge in his underwear, and the thigh-high stockings that complemented his long legs. Light sat on the sink countertop, one leg crossed over the other and his feet barely touching the floor. 

“I was wondering when you’d decide to turn up,” he crossed his arms across his chest, shooting a sly, one-sided smile. There were signs he’d been crying, with barely visible eyeliner streaks running down his face, but he’d gone to the effort of re-working the rest of his makeup.

L found himself being drawn to him, approaching with little to no thought. Light unfolded his legs, parting them to entice him, and at that point all blood rushed straight to his lower region. He grabbed him by the thighs and dragged him closer to the edge of the counter, causing his upper back to slide against the mirror behind him.

“It was worth the wait, I suppose,” he brought a thumb to his cheek and tried to wipe away any remaining makeup smudges. “You’re truly breathtaking, Light. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Not making it clear what exactly he was apologising for, he knew his fiance would still understand what he meant by it. That apology was heartfelt after having all that time to himself to dwell on things. He allowed too many things to get in the way of his relationship with Light, and now he had to learn to close that off from his mind - the persona was becoming far too personal for his own taste. Between himself and Light, it was meant to be enjoyable.

“You’ll have to tell me if I’m doing this right,” Light prompted, again sounding incredibly doubtful of his ability. His eyes trailed away from him as he looked down, trying to determine for himself whether he felt right or not, but he seemed mostly self-conscious. This was an unusual occurrence for the vain Light Yagami, who had the confidence to never second-guess himself, at least until now. 

L stroked his face with the back of his fingers, astonished that a person as beautiful as Light could still find any doubt in himself. He felt undeserving of his love, but he was determined to give Light more in return - making himself worth even a second of his life. 

“It’s never wrong if it’s you, Light.”


End file.
